Thursday, February 6, 2014
A SONG FROM MY LIPS
Close your eyes, be still.
I'll sing you a song you can dream
'bout a boy who lives in a boat that flies
though often it floats on a stream.
Now this boy's special in many ways
'cause once he swallowed a moonbeam.
He likes candy, cake, ice of cream,
cotton and cocoa that melts with steam,
colorful gummies that make him gleam,
honey and sugar that make him scream.
He likes to dance, to shake his booty
sometimes so much he goes kapputy.
He gets cooties when he's snooty.
He even smells a little fruity.
But his heart is made from goody
beating to the sound of beauty.
At night this little boy must sleep,
Being quiet without a peep.
He'll dream of stars he hopes to keep.
For now, this little song's complete.
(Submitted to Dverse Poets where we're prompted to write lyrics.)
A part of my grandson's bedtime ritual is that he requests "a song from your lips". This means he wants a made-up song, new each time. I'll be seeing him next week, and I'll try this one on him. The last song he always asks for is Silent Night, which his mother sings beautifully. Grandma doesn't sing very well.